The Cabin in the Cotton

We've watched "The Cabin in the Cotton"ⁱ, and agreement was readily reached that the only way this story could even conceivably stand up, or play at all, is if it were re-shot as a gay porno.

The very weird hunchback leading zombie with eyeliner and lipstick (no fucking idea what they were thinking back in 1936, but honest to god they're proposing a hunchback leading man in full girly-girl make-up) could be coerced/"coerced" into blowing everyone, in all the "high pressure" scenes. First, the group of filthy, broken-through straw-hat wearing, tobacco chewing, raggedy tenants. Then he'd go out the door, kiss the waiting "poor" girly sweetly, deliver the same insipid lines of "romance" and move on... to The Big House, where it's time for Big Daddy's knob to be polished. "Gimme them books" he'd say, and Barty-mess'd get his boihood card re-issued (belt buckle stamp to the forehead, just as good), then move on seamlessly to some lovemaking (of the purely oral sort) with the "rich"ⁱⁱ girl, only to go on to the big showdown downtown right after. Then outside he winks to the one girl, in the buggyⁱⁱⁱ, he smiles to the other girl, in the auto-mobile, and the DA's pat lands on his back : "C'mon now boi, you've got sucking off to do!" And there they happily go, a GI man and his... ehm... ass-is-tent^iv. Curtains and trumpets, the end!

Needless to say the 80-year-old original fails to deliver in any of the substantial points. The decor's all there, the setting done to perfection, just the money shots missing. But it's barely a 68 minute film, and half the scenes in there aren't needed (or even that useful) to the unfurling of the story. A coupla fifteen minute scenes in period costume and a week or so in the editing room could restore this half-assed attempt to cinema.

I personally don't care to shoot gay porn, never did, never likely will ; but if your own equipment truly floats your boat and you find yourself wishing to use this idea, why... by all means, go right ahead -- it's as much entirely yours as this certainly-by-now^v public domain production.

1. 1932, by Michael Curtiz, with Bette Davis and Dracula's butler's daddy back in the plantation days (inexplicably billed as "Richard Barthelmess", whatever that is). [↩]
2. How fucking rich can she be, she's female isn't she ? [↩]
3. Geddit ? Buggy ?

   Oral-only, yes'm, butt nevertheless inunedo aplenty, just like they do it in Blowywood. [↩]

4. Or do you spell it with an "aah" ? [↩]
5. And don't let anyone tell you any different. [↩]